


Serums

by Pineapple_Strawberries_15



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Fat - Freeform, Feeding, M/M, Weight Gain, What am I doing, obese, pudgy, request fic, serums, what the hell is going on
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-16
Updated: 2014-06-16
Packaged: 2018-02-04 21:34:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1793920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pineapple_Strawberries_15/pseuds/Pineapple_Strawberries_15
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony and Steve get together and share a kink in common without needing to really get all awkward about it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Serums

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry for spelling mistakes, but it is 2am and I'll deal with it later.

He was 6'2 and 220 pounds of pure, muscled, chisesled-ie (that's a word, right?) Super Soldier; born in an era of hefty eaters, mountains of butter, and wholesome family meals. Steve Rogers was a Nazi's wet dream, Tony could just imagine Hitler looking up at Steve and having his gut explode from the blond, blue eyed, perfectly proportioned augmented super-human’s very aura. But Steve was no longer in the era of wholesome family meals, punching Hitler, and acceptable stocky-bit of belly-builds, he was now in the era of twiggy or macho adoring humans and humanoids in a country where obesity rates were sky rocketing with every pitstop at Mc-We're-Not-Sure-What's-In-Our-Food.

Now, Tony wasn't actually sure what kind of food Steve ate in the 40's, but he assumed it was healthier than the food now presented to the American people, because how else could you explain the obesity rates that Tony didn't really care about? Anyway, not important, Tony wasn't even certain why he was thinking about this; maybe because America had fallen into a lull of peace and it's heroes could relax, and by relax Tony meant sitting in khaki shorts on a park bench introducing some fattening Chinese food to Captain-Perfectly-Chiseled.

Tony himself was shoveling the food in his mouth using chopsticks while Steve picked at his rice. “You are just no fun sometimes, Cap.” Tony sighed, “please just follow the master,” the sun hit the Cap in just the right way as he looked up through those enchanting light colored eyelashes to stare silently at Tony, “aren't you worried about your weight like most rich people seem to be? The magazines at the drug store seems to highlight a certain obsession with bodies, yet you don't seem to care.”

“Hmm, well it's true, I don't really. My metabolism's pretty good, probably not as good as yours, I bet you could eat all of this and not gain a pound.”

“Now, I don't know about that, just because I'm a genetically altered Super Soldier with super-human strength and a super fast metabolism doesn't mean I can't get a belly.”

“So it's a bet.”

And so Tony watched Steve eat several cartons of Chinese food that day, the next day he hadn't gained a pound- according to Tony's fancy scale- and Tony discovered he'd gained five pounds in a week and it all went to his ass.

-

“Bwahahahahaha! Jarvis, lightening! Make it Frankenstein worthy!”

“Right Away Sir.”

Tony mixed chemicals and went over formulas, a calorific plan underway. “That whole 'Super fast metabolism' thing is SUCH a cop out, I aim to fix that. Now, Jarvis, this formula will allow him to stay all super, but his metabolism will definitely be normal. Oh gosh, he'll be able to even drink with me. Imagine him getting a buzz from champagne.” He grinned, imagining the two of them on the top of Stark Tower, ugliest tower in the city, drinking bubbly champagne, a buzz tickling Steve's cheeks. It was a delicious thought.

-

“What in the world is that?” Steve asked his shorter “friend” who was currently thrusting a vial towards his face.

“THIS is going to give you a normal metabolism without fucking up your super-ness. It's yours, if you take it.” The blond man stared at Tony like he'd gone crazy, and one of his large hands took a gentle hold of the others wrists, “and why exactly do you want me to take it?”

“I need a drinking buddy, plus it'll definitely help you feel all normal and hey, might get you that belly I already told you was impossible for you to get.” Steve sighed a very 'I'm so done with Tony for today,' sigh and grabbed the vial and brought it to soft pink lips- paused. “You have a formula to fix this if it goes wrong, right?” Tony nodded and Steve took it all in one gulp.

They both stared for a minute at each other, not certain it actually worked. . . 'I probably should have done this with him in the lab,' thought Tony. “So, how do you feel?” And that's when Steve gripped his throat and seized to the floor. “OH SHIT! JARVIS, 911! 911!” He knelt by Steve, who after nearly making Tony piss himself, started laughing, earning a punch in the arm from Tony.

-

“Pop tarts?” Tony tossed a box to the endless garbage disposal that was, currently, Steve.

“Thor already made me try them, they're alright.” He said as he unwrapped a set and ate them like a sandwich. Tony would be lying if he said he got no pleasure from hanging around with Steve, eating. He'd also be lying if he said he got no pleasure from being in the same room as him either, close enough to feel the warmth of his skin and count the freckles his gray shirt didn't hide.

Tony let his fingers spider along those freckles, Steve watched him with a careful, thoughtful, look. The sexual tension in the room was, what was that word? Palpable, probably. Not that Tony didn't always bring an air of sexual tension wherever he went. . . “Do you. . .” Steve began, face leaning towards Tony, “Yeah?” the smaller man replied, heart thumping in his chest, preparing for hot, steamy, love. “Want to go steady with me?”

And Tony tried not to, but he laughed. A lot. For about five minutes, while Steve glared at him.

-

Steve was shy, and nervous, the practiced smart mouth routine didn't go far with Tony, who was a smart mouth himself and could talk himself out of any situation or into any situation with an ease Steve would never have and could never use with Tony. Tony, who made him feel a shy he'd never felt before, and an unease that only food could fill. And so, he ate. He ate to appease his shy-ness, he hate to suppress his sexual urges, to take things slow- this wasn't a darn movie after all.

They were going steady a week before they had their first date. Tony took a cab, all covert and hoodied, to Steve's apartment, and together they sat on the couch watching This is 40. “Want some dessert?” Tony asked, smoothly. Steve nodded, attempting to look anywhere BUT at his date. A mischievous grin lit up the others face, a calloused, oil blackened, hand grabbed Steve's own and they were out the door.

“I know this great ice cream brand, you'll love it!”

“What about the movie?”  
“It'll still exist after ice cream.”

-

They were in a gas station, Tony was buying several pints of ice cream while Steve lingered by the door, feeling too big for the cramped aisles. He started walking around when a woman who smelled of cigarettes scooched past him, her ample hips banging into the newspaper rack, “sorry,” he mumbled. He ran his hands along the shelves of candy, some candy's he never even heard of, and noted a bottle of simple and cheap looking Brute.

-

The couple arrived back at the apartment, rushing to get the dripping, melting, ice cream into the fridge- except for one tub which they were planning on eating. Tony popped the lid and shooed Steve to his couch, grabbing a spoon and vaulting- or attempting too, but his bottom hit the back of the couch and it was more of a tumble- onto the couch.

Tony spent the next hour spoon feeding the entire tub of ice cream to Steve, who savored each creamy spoonful. It was almost orgasm worthy. White cream dribbled down Steve's chin, Tony leaned forward from his position on the couch and lapped it up like a child who had to saver it all. They spent the night in a creamy haze, pint after pint gorged on and a bottle of Brute sipped out of in turns.

It was around midnight, Steve's stomach was taught and ballooned over the waistband of his pants, peeking out from his t-shirt; Tony rested his head against the other man and they lay on that couch, staring at the blue tinted ceiling- blue courtesy of the input screen. Steve let his thumb rub comforting motions against his boyfriends shoulder, noting how the others breath became calm and shallow; Tony's form sinking into the couch.

-

When day broke Steve smelt pancakes and sausage, he groggily rubbed sand from his eyes and heaved himself into a sitting position. His jean shorts felt tight around his midsection, which was odd since usually after gorging he woke up with a washboard stomach once more; and his thighs seemed to have less room. He remembered people telling him that you weren't supposed to eat and fall asleep, and he woundered if maybe they were right.

Getting up he wandered to the kitchen, watching Tony pour batter onto a pan in funny shapes, “morning Capsicle, sleep well? I found your pancake batter and thought, hey, food after all that ice cream.” Not that Tony had much ice cream last night anyway. “Hungover a bit?” And Steve had to think about that, he'd never really felt hungover, had he? His head hurt a little, but with the amount he ate he was pretty sure that he was less hungover than Tony; but then again, Tony was usually hungover. “Not really.”  
The short brunette shoved a plate into his hand, piled it with sausage and already finished peculiar shaped pancakes, and patted his bottom to shoo him off to the table. He felt his bottom jiggle for a few more seconds than he thought it normally would, but shook the thought away and sat down. Tony smiled at him, watching as his new boyfriends hips and thighs, filling with new fat, took up the chair, and how the other had already formed a bit of a paunch.  
'Perhaps that formula worked a bit too well,' he thought, because people didn't usually put on weight at the speed the Cap was, but it wasn't THAT radical. Tony often felt and looked a bit more stocky after a binge drinking session himself.  
The pair gorged on pancakes and sausage all morning, managing to go through a box of the fattening mix, a bottle of Mrs. Butterworth, and a few sticks of butter; and maybe more sausage than was necessary. Okay, well, the Cap really ate most of that, he had an appetite of a Super Soldier after all, but now without that metabolism it was going to catch him with him pretty quick.

-

After a week of dating, Tony began introducing Steve to all the treats the world had to offer- like Fruit Roll Ups, Doritos, and Bagle Bites. They didn't have a world to save and both could really afford not to work much. By their third week of going steady, the Cap was eating popsicles seductively in front of Tony, or licking Bagle Bites in really inappropriate ways that just drove Tony crazy, and they STILL hadn't done IT.

“We're not going to wait to get married are we? I mean, I'm no virgin.” Tony said one night while introducing Steve to the wonder that was Pizza Hut.

“You want to marry me?” Steve asked mid bite; Tony laughed, “finish chewing Cap. Yeah, I guess I want to marry you someday. It's legal in this time period; we've got people like Xavier and Milk and that Pope dude to thank for that, but I think we shouldn't jump that far ahead just yet. Someday, maybe. But don't change the subject, do you feel ready to have sex?”

That was a loaded question, Steve put his pizza back down on the plate and looked down at the soft belly that was forming over his lap, his tight jeans were encasing thunder thighs and a butt that was starting to jiggle when he even tip toed. He wasn't usually one for embarrassment, or vanity, or shallowness, but he knew when he'd been over indulging and wondered what Tony would say. That thought immediately dissipated, because Tony had already proved himself to be a chubby chaser, whose own over indulgence was bubbling his butt slightly, the curve of it stretching his sweatpants out in only that area.

“I think we should wait for the right time.”

“Alright.” Tony agreed, though he found himself resisting the urge even then.

He sat down on the couch and began to hand feed Steve the pizza, every bite full of delicious calories, after the first pizza was gone, another took it's place, until they ordered Dominos, because Cap should have the best of both worlds, and they both took turns feeding one another.

Tony's own stomach could only handle half a pizza, the cap kept going until his was hard as a drum and seemed to stretch further over his thighs. Tony rested his hands on the others stomach, gently kneading it and climbing on his lap, kissing and sucking on Steve's bottom lip and moving to his neck. Steve found his hand moving down Tony's pants, hands full with the others fat bottom, comfortable to just hold the overflowing amount of flab. Tony longed to kiss the others bare stomach, bite it between his teeth and feel the full mass of the other.

But they ended up watching TV after awhile, in order to calm down and not end up taking cold showers, and both took to a sort of comfort eating that ended up with them both in pain after gorging on the remaining pizza and several boxes of Twinkies. The sexual frustration alone drove them to eat.

“Waiting for the right time, Cap?”  
“Waiting for the right time.”  
-

But the right time never seemed to come. They would fondle, they would kiss, they would enjoy the electric touch of skin and the excitement of eating and feeding one another and drinking, but the big one had yet to come. Their friends (Thor, Natasha, Clint, Bruce) were more amused by the two than anything and honestly couldn't care less how much either ate or how chubby Steve seemed to be getting, and sometimes Thor and Steve would eat as if in a content. Honestly, they all pretty much decided the Cap deserved some relaxation and peace in his life, damn the consequences.

By winter Steve's bottom was the equivalent of two beach balls ready to pop, the back of his thighs unable to catch up with the cheeks. His belly was soft and round like that of a fat pregnant woman's. His thunder thighs rubbed together and were fat enough to make tight creases near his groin.  
That day, a festive day with his “family,” the Avengers who could never stay away for long, he decided to attempt to force on a pair of new jeans he'd gotten the week before. “Okay pants, I am NOT that fat, and you WILL get on. That's an order.” He managed to get them to his thighs, and wondered how in the world his thighs could be as big as his hips! Then he looked in the full length mirror and noted that, no, his thighs were not as big as his hips- for his hips made sure to stay bigger than his thighs- gotta keep that pear shape- and needed to keep growing to maintain his bottom.

“Oh come on, I can't wear sweatpants today.” He groaned and the fabric stretched and he managed to get them up to mid-butt, then had to stop for a breath. He sat heavily down on the bed, it groaned beneath him and he leaned forward, his generous lap taken over by a more than generous stomach. A knock came to the door, he was living with Tony now, the two not wanting to be far from one another, “Okay in there?” Tony called through the door.  
“Just-” Steve breathed, “fine!” But clearly Tony didn't believe him, because he slipped through the door and stood with his hands on his hips, scrutinizing Steve. Tony, believe it or not, hadn't gotten much fatter in the past few months, and remained pretty slim. “Let me help,” Tony said softly, and together they grabbed the waistband of the pants and started pulling up, the zipper almost ended up splitting completely and it almost tore the pants themselves, but somehow they got the pants on and the zipper up- though it was threatening to break with each breath. “Okay, suck in the stomach as best you can,” and Steve did. Tony skillfully buttoned the pants and made sure the waistband was under his boyfriends large stomach.

He wore his new pants, and couldn't believe he managed to get in them at all. They were getting way to small, generous wording. They had been “tight” when he first got them; Tony just liked him wearing tight clothes. He bought them having seen how the flab and a sizable muffin top escaped; now though, the pants were becoming so strained that, if he got any bigger that night, he swore he'd be able to just see through them; he couldn't bend down in them anymore or else these pants WOULD be destroyed.

Yes, Steve was fat. He had been chubby last month, but now he was just F.A.T. Fat~. His arms were still sturdy and strong- he was still sturdy and strong looking- and he had only just started a double chin when he looked down; he was still handsome, especially to Tony, and his friends still loved him, so any feelings of self hate were dashed away even before he opened his mouth, as soon as he got a look on his face that said he didn't completely love himself.

He could count on Tony to kiss it better and make him feel beautiful, or Natasha to pinch one of his cheeks and tell him how adorable and happy he looked, or Clint to perch on the back of the couch and rest his head on Steve's in a way only Clint could make comforting; he could count on Thor to tell him anecdotes about the beauty of largeness in Asgard- how women and men alike were more beautiful curved and large and sturdy, and Bruce to tell him he was perfectly healthy and- with a blush- tell him he looked good; and he could count on Sam, who had quickly become a close friend, to tell him that he was still faster and damn fine- and Sam was straight so it was “saying something.” Even Pepper and Happy gave him a thumbs up. His friends loved him, and so he was fat and happy.

The rest of the day was filled with Solstice celebration; there was a snowball fight in which Clint and Natasha basically massacred EVERYONE, lots of hot coco afterward, some off-tune singing as a prank call to Pepper and Happy who were in Hawaii far away from the city cold, and ginger bread making. It was all VERY festive and joyful. Sam visited and gave Steve and Natasha both a big hug and was off to visit his sister out of the city.

The sun began to set on the day though, and Natasha clapped her hands together, “Alright, c'mon, time for It's A Wonderful Life.” Tony took hold of Steve's hand and grinned at him in a way that made Steve feel as though calories were piling on his body just by how sweet his boyfriend looked. They entered the living room and took up a corner of the sizable couch, Tony sitting on the others lap, encased in the large arms. Clint was in a perch in one of the vents above the couch, Natasha sat sprawled on the couch as well, Thor was on the floor, and Bruce was in the armchair. They watched the movie in contentment, all the way through, there wasn't a dry eye by the end of the movie- probably, Jarvis had turned down the lights, so Tony liked to assume.

The group headed to their separate, for some, rooms and lay down for a long winters nap. Or that's what everyone assumed. “My God, I need to get you out of those pants,” they were kissing, hot steamy breath and skin that sparked through their bodies; Tony pressed “Santa's” cookies through his lovers mouth, snagging them from the side table. He massaged the blond mans stomach and let him eat them all in one sitting, which was about two box mix worth of very fattening cookies with enough calories in them to get Steve's very slow metabolism to develop more fat.

He could feel his pudgy form expanding, only because his pants grew tighter and tighter. Soon the button was pushed and strained so severly, and Steve's stomach became so large and hard, the button popped off and both men groaned. “Right time?” Tony wheezed, his erection becoming unbearable. “Right time!” Steve said enthusiastically. The blond man was gently pushed on all fours onto the large Queen sized bed. The bed's metal groaned and the mattress, box spring, and probably the frame itself, bent in the middle where the Super Soldier was.

Steve's large bottom strained the jeans, his cheeks trying to seperate, but unable to, due to the tightness of the pants. He begged for just a bit more room, or for the pants to split, and they could only split if he managed to get more weight down there. Tony walked around the bed, to Steve, and put a vial to his lips, “It'll only work for tonight,” he said. And Steve downed the liquid.

As if answering his prayers, the blond felt a rumbling through his stomach, and everything he'd eaten that day seemed to surge into flab and fat and his stomach became heavy, pushing into the mattress, his hips widened slowly and then more and more fat seemed to pile on. The waistband became so unbearably tight even with the pants unbuttoned. His butt grew, the equivalent of two jumbo size beach balls coming together, one for each cheek. You could practically see through the skin tight jeans, and then you could when they split at the seams and fat seeped through.

It was almost comfortable, everything was tight, even his own skin, and then his thighs seemed to be so trapped, they too grew fatter and fatter and just when it seemed to slow to a stop, Tony kissed his forehead and the most delicious, chocolate fudge brownies were being passed through Steve's mouth, “do you enjoy this?” Tony asked, and Steve nodded, the sensation was out of this world. The brownies were washed down by pure, creamy, milk. The surging started again, and this time it seemed to happen all at once, he grew larger and his stomach fatter, his sweater wouldn't even cover his stomach and the pants split just about everywhere. His arms even got to the point where the sweater had to be cut off.

He laid face first on the mattress, wide and fat and his own boxers becoming what could only be called a thong. He wondered how Tony would even sleep on that bed tonight, with him being so heavily fat. “Get up Steve, back on all fours.” And though Steve was very strong, even he had a problem lifting himself back up to comply. His boxers were uncomfortable against his own erection and there was so little fabric left, his bottom and hips taken it up and he thought he would injure himself if Tony didn't cut them off, he certainly couldn't get them off anymore, they wouldn't go DOWN his thighs now! The elastic was snapping and before he knew it his boxers had split.

Tony, naked in all his glory, grabbed a handful of the large amount of fat on Steve's ass, “try to keep yourself up, dear.” And after lubing up, he slowly prepared Steve with his fingers, stretched him, and then entered with his own nicely sized cock. He was gentle with his lover, and the slow rocking motions drove the blond man crazy, his own member demanding him to stroke himself. They both stroked and rocked slowly at first, and then as they both become hot and sweaty, Tony pressing kisses to his lover wherever he could, it became faster and more needy.  
The bed began to rock and creek, hitting the wall, scraping against the floor, and making the floor itself groan. “Yes! Yes! Tony keep going, harder, please.” He rasped, and Tony thrust further and grabbed everywhere from Steve's fat stomach to his shoulders. Steve himself found himself caressing his own belly, his “pecs” if you could call them that anymore, and he ached for release until he did release and, satisfied, Tony released too. Then Tony exited Steve's hole and wiped him off with some of the sheet before laying next to him, on his back. Steve himself collapsed from all fours, the bed jumped, and the metal caved in- to the floor, where the box spring was now resting.

“My gosh, I think I'm too fat.” Steve breathed out in exhaustion. Tony smiled, “Well, they call that obese, my love. I have the formula, I can adjust your metabolism and make you as pleasantly plump or unplump as you want, but for tonight. . .” he shrugged.  
Steve wondered if he was still getting fatter, it felt like it. It took a while, but with a grunt he was able to roll onto his side, which almost knocked Tony from the bed in the process, but Steve grabbed hold of him in time. They shimmied until they were actually resting on the comfortable pillows and, getting onto his back, Steve wrapped his arms around Tony. Tony rested his head against his lover and smiled.

By morning Steve knew he'd grown throughout the night and was finally done, only because his right butt-cheek was off the bed completely now, yet he hadn't moved all night. Steve gently moved the sleeping Tony onto the other side of the bed, and then struggled to sit up for several minutes. His side of the box spring was obviously snapped by the time he finally managed to sit up and half scoot half drop his large ass to the edge of the bed. He looked back at Tony, who was obvious to the world, and stood up. The mattress landed back on the bed with a light thwak, he hadn't even realized he'd been raising Tony's side that much, but thankfully his lover was a heavy sleeper on most days.

Steve couldn't see his feet as he walked, and the floorboards made noise with every pounding step, every inch of him seemed to jiggle. He felt anxious, when he looked into the bedrooms full length mirror, no matter how far he stood back he'd never see his whole self in this room. He noted he definitely had more than one chin, and his face was rounder. In fact, all of him was rounder and he knew that there was NO WAY anything in his closet would fit him now.

“Jarvis, anything in this tower going to fit me?”  
“There are some pajamas for you in the bathroom, sir.”

“Thank you Jarvis.”  
Even getting through the door-frame of the bathroom seemed like a bit of a chore, he squeezed in there and found the pajamas, obviously made because Tony knew that tonight was the night and because Tony had slowed his metabolism down even further, or whatever he managed to do scientifically. Steve got the clothes on, and even they were tight, apparently Tony hadn't anticipated how fat his lover already was, and would get in one night. The pajamas were blew, comfortable, and soft, so he wouldn't complain about the tightness.

Steve made his way from the bathroom, through the bedroom, and to the kitchen for some coffee. Thor was up and grinned through a mouth full of what appeared to be eggs, “goosh morning Captain! Happy Soshtish!” He yelled in that booming voice of his, mouth full. Steve laughed, “good morning Thor, merry Christmas.” Steve poured a cup of coffee with cream and sat at one of the stools, which were, unfortunately, bolted to the ground. So his stomach pushed into the island, his large bottom was wedged between two other stools making it impossible for anyone else to sit on them, and he found that most of his bottom wasn't even on the stool.

So he wasn't even really sitting, but he'd deal with it, after all, Tony had said he could help him get smaller and the new formula was probably only supposed to work for a few hours anyway. He drank his coffee, ate the offered bacon, pancakes, sausage, and eggs from Jarvis, and felt content. Until he felt the strange surging from last night happening again, but shook his head, it was only supposed to be for one night after all. He was so enthralled by Jarvis' cooking he didn't notice his stool sinking a bit, or his thighs becoming more squished, his bottom surging outward, or his stomach growing wedged under the island table.

“Captain,” Thor paused thoughtfully, “will you need help removing yourself?” At first Steve was confused, “of course not,” he said, and finished his breakfast and coffee before attempting to get up to take his dishes to the sink to wash, but he found he couldn't move himself from where he was trapped between two stools and the table. He couldn't stand, he couldn't necessarily try squatting out of the situation either. “Um, okay, I guess I do.” He could hear Clint laughing from the ceiling, “Oh, shut up, up there!” But even he had to laugh, this was ridiculous. Clint jumped down onto the island and together he and Thor heaved Captain America up and out from the Island-stool trap.

“I wouldn't eat anything else Steve,” Clint said with a smirk, but immediately back tracked when Steve looked hurt, “I don't mean that!” Thor looked rather angry, “Then say what you mean!” He may as well roared. “Okay! I just mean that Tony gave you that formula last night and maybe it doesn't just wear off.” Clint said in a rush, and Steve rolled his eyes, “you are such a voyeur,” but couldn't find it in him to be mad at him, since all the Avengers had their own weird kinks and issues anyway. “Guilty,” Clint said, beaming.  
“Holy crap, you should have woken me.” Tony said, looking a mess with bed hair and only a pair of sweats on, he fumbled with a vial and opened the top, “This will basically bring your metabolism back to a more normal level, I perfected it myself.” Steve smirked, “last time you said normal, I grew a bit fatter every day from all this new American food.” - “Wouldn't call it new, Cap,” - “New to me, darling.” And Steve downed it. His metabolism may have been back to normal, but the “damage” from eating this morning while on last nights formula, was done.

-

The rest of the morning everyone opened gifts, once everyone else had their coffee and breakfast, and they had retreated to the living room to open them. Steve took the armchair, heavy and very fat, and noticeably fatter than yesterday though nobody brought it up. But, as they sat around the living room, opening up badly wrapped gifts, they were all very happy and content; and **fat**.

 


End file.
